


Memory

by glorious_spoon



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, Mind Meld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has not seen a mind like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=9405561#cmt9405561) on tfa_kink:
> 
> _Kylo finally manages to get a crack at Finn and tries to rip his mind apart in revenge for betraying the FO. But instead of harming Finn, Kylo gets a head full of whatever adorable baby animal gifs and sunshine rainbowscapes run through Finn's adorable head because he is a precious starlight puppy unicorn. Basically, the sheer amount of goodness/light and kindness that somehow managed to survive in Finn despite his growing up in the darkest of places breaks through whatever Darkside hold Snoke has on Kylo._
> 
> Includes an overuse of dashes, unlikely redemption narratives, and the author taking a cracky prompt way too seriously.

The boy's mind is strong, but untrained. He slides easily through the cracks and sees:  
  
_"FN-2187, you are not at your post. Explain."_  
  
_Small hands trembling on a sick boy's sweaty uniform; a child's hands, a recruit's uniform, not armor. The white lights of the recruit bunks overhead. This memory is old._  
  
_"Captain, ma'am, he's sick, he needs—" A pause, then the child speaks again, more calmly. "Ma'am, I'll do his duty roster along with my own. He needs an infirmary."_  
  
_"Recruit, you will do no such thing..."_  
  
Impatient, he bats the memory aside. It has no relevence to their present situation, to the information he seeks; he cannot imagine what called it to the top of FN-2187's mind, unless it was an attempt at misdirection. The stormtrooper's mind is not disciplined, but he is intelligent, and he has certainly made some attempt to prepare for this eventuality. Hopeless though that is. He is only prolonging the unpleasantness.  
  
FN-2187 is grimacing beneath his fingers, clearly in pain; Kylo has made no attempt to be gentle. That would be contrary to his aims, and at any rate, his training on this matter has been quite clear: gentleness leads to pity, pity to weakness, the softness of the Light. He will not pity this traitorous stormtrooper who trembles beneath him; he will take what he needs, and he will destroy him.  
  
Again, he reaches for the stormtrooper's mind.  
  
"Where is the location of the Rebel base?"  
  
_The Rebel base is—_  
  
_—a handsome dark-haired man laughing from across the table, holding out something that Kylo's conscious mind identifies as_ qui-sutel _bread, sweetened and studded with candied fruit. A delicacy of long-lost Alderaan; he has not tasted it since he was a child in his mother's house. "I'm serious, try it, it's good!"_  
  
_The stormtrooper's voice, deepened to adulthood, dubious. "Those aren't bugs, are they?"_  
  
_"I wouldn't feed you bugs, Finn, come on. Not unless we were really hungry. Trust me, it's good."_  
  
_"I trust you," FN-2187 says. His voice is still doubtful, but Kylo can see the echo of his thoughts and the words—the words are perfectly sincere._  
  
_He does trust this man, this_ Poe Dameron, _despite having known him for less than a season of this world. He trusts the woman beside him, a dark haired, laughing Human in a pilot's uniform; he trusts the middle-aged Sullustan who is watching with amusement in his liquid black eyes._  
  
_He's sitting in a mess hall with people who would have gladly but a blaster bolt in his chest less than a year ago, and he trusts every last one of them implicitly, easily, without even thinking about it._  
  
_The remembered taste of_ qui-sutel _is rich on his tongue—on FN-2187's tongue—on the memory of—_  
  
He breaks away.  
  
FN-2187 is watching him now. There's tension in the lines of his face, sweat standing on his skin, but he's watching Kylo like—  
  
—like he sees—  
  
"Tell me," Kylo says harshly. "Tell me, and the pain will stop."  
  
_The location of the rebel base is—_  
  
_—a thin pale girl with the sun in her eyes and grease on her hands, laughing—_  
  
_—the handsome pilot leaning over a infirmary bed, looking tired and wan and unabashedly happy—_  
  
_—the feel of a real shower, real water hitting his skin and softening tight muscles, and how clean he feels afterward—_

 _—the girl on the desert world Jakku, fierce and thin and bright as a flexsteel cable, reaching down to help him up—_  
  
_—the smell of the forest, of living things, the first time an insect alights on his hand and bites him and instead of crushing it he laughs, delighted at such a small impertinent life—_  
  
_—the exotic flavor of an alcoholic drink, the first he's ever tasted, pulling a laughing stranger into a clumsy, joyful dance—_  
  
_—Han Solo's strong hand on his shoulder, the solidness of his grip and the grudging warmth of his voice when he says, "good shot, kid—"_  
  
_—his mother's eyes, her smile—_  
  
Kylo does not break away this time. There is nothing controlled about it. He's falling away, and it's as though the floor has slipped away beneath him, the world has slipped away beneath him; something is rushing in his ears and his cheeks are wet.  
  
He has scrambled most of the way across the room. The stormtrooper—FN-2187—  
  
_Finn my name is Finn_  
  
—is still watching him, the pain fading from his expression, replaced with confusion.  
  
Kylo flicks a hand, and the restraints pop open.  
  
"What—"  
  
"You're free to go," he says in a low voice.  
  
FN-2187 (Finn, his name is _Finn_ ), doesn't stick around to ask questions. He scrambles out of the chair, and within moments his footsteps are echoing down the hallway. A fast sprint, despite his injuries. The Resistance is here, Kylo knows; he can feel them closing in. He had meant to strip the stormtrooper's mind and be on his way before they reached the prison level.  
  
Instead, he slips the mask from his face, leans his head back against the cold metal wall, and waits for them to come for him.


End file.
